As verse 7 opens, the author of the Hebrews provides an example from Israel's past that describes what happens if God's people don't "hold fast our confidence and our boasting in our hope" from the end of verse 6.

He does this with a quote from Psalm 95 that again brings us back to Hebrews 1:1 and God speaking through the prophets and again through His Son. Psalm 95 links back to Exodus 17:1-7 where the people of Israel had witnessed God's actions and seen Him provide for them but they rebelled against God anyway. Psalm 95 and Hebrews 3:7-11 becomes an admonishment to not be like the people of Israel in those days.

With this setup of guarding the faith in mind, the author then exhorts those in the community to encourage one another in the faith. This is our first hint in Hebrews that community is central to the Christian faith.

One of the most asked questions about the Letter to the Hebrews is, "Who wrote it?" In the early Eastern Church, the answer was always Paul, largely because Clement of Alexandria, when putting together his collection of New Testament works, put Hebrews in between Romans and 1 Corinthians.

However, in the Western Church, Hebrews was never considered to be Pauline (and wasn't necessarily seen as part of the canon) until Jerome, who was greatly influenced by Alexandrian thoughts, included it in the Vulgate under the assumption that it was written by Paul.

This of course brings up the question of how Hebrews ended up in the Bible. Of course, it's not the only book that prompts this question. The New Testament, like the Old, can be divided into three categories (the Gospels, Paul's Epistles, and the Catholic Epistles). Of these groups, all of the books in the Catholic Epistles (Hebrews through Revelation), have been questioned at various points.

What this also means is that the bulk of the New Testament, has never been historically questioned as being part of the Bible. In fact, all of Paul's letters were bound together and being passed around as an authoritative collection before the end of the First Century. Similarly, the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John were bound as an authoritative collection by 150 AD at the latest (which means they were the authoritative Christian Scriptures before the Gnostic Gospels were even written).

So, in the case of Hebrews, how did it make it in? Truthfully, it's largely because of Jerome crediting the work to Paul and the assumption that the book was part of the Apostolic record (connection to the Apostles was an important criteria when identifying Scripture).

Of course, today, it would be hard to make a legitimate argument that Paul wrote Hebrews, primarily because the text itself seems to deny this. Hebrews 2:2-4 reads:

For since the message declared by angels proved to be reliable, and every transgression or disobedience received a just retribution, how shall we escape if we neglect such a great salvation? It was declared at first by the Lord, and it was attested to us by those who heard, while God also bore witness by signs and wonders and various miracles and by gifts of the Holy Spirit distributed according to his will.

The section I have in bold makes reference to the author of the book as a secondhand witness, somebody who was taught by one of the Apostles. This of course rules out Paul who was a direct witness of Christ and was taught by Christ Himself (this is the grounds on which Paul argues his apostleship in Galatians).

So, who wrote the letter to the Hebrews? We don't really know. What we do know, is that by the Spirit's guidance it ended up in Scripture and therefore, like all of Scripture, it is worth studying.

In the case of Hebrews, it is specifically valuable because of how carefully it treats the Old Testament and, in the process, teaches us how we as Christians are to understand all of Scripture in light of Christ.

Given it's name, we can assume that Hebrews was written to Jewish Christians who were struggling to reconcile their Jewish history with their Christianity. Most likely these Christians live in Rome before 70 AD. In Rome because the author has Italian friends of the readers with him (Hebrews 13:24) and it is known by early Roman leaders like Clement of Rome and Hermas.

It was most likely written before 70 AD because it refers to the sacrifices in the temple in the present tense and, the greatest proof the author could have of his point that Christ fulfills the Old Testament, would be that the Temple was no longer functioning (this of course is a point that is never made).

Discussion Questions:
1. What did you already know, or what is new concerning formation of the Bible? Do you find the truth comforting or disconcerting?

2. What has guided your understanding of the Old Testament in the past? Have you seen it as something that points to Christ?

What's going on in Luke 12? First Jesus speaks a word of law that penetrates deep into our hearts and then, just a few short verses later, he declares that he didn't come to bring peace, but division (12:49-53).

Who is this Jesus who's accusatory? Since when did Jesus come to tear families apart and cast a judgmental fire upon the earth? This doesn't sound like the Jesus I know at all.

Rather, when I think of Jesus, I always picture the man who spends his time with tax collectors and sinners. He's a guy who hung out with the dregs of society and brought acceptance to the outcasts. Jesus is a guy who went about healing diseases and proclaiming a message of love and forgiveness. That's the Jesus that I think of in the Gospels.

Moreover, this is the Jesus I discover in the rest of the pages of the New Testament where the central theme is Jesus dying for the forgiveness of sin ... a forgiveness that makes us right with God ... a forgiveness that breaks down barriers and unites people. This isn't a Jesus who divides.

If that wasn't enough, I find the same loving Jesus promised in the pages of the Old Testament. There the Father who sent Jesus into the world describes himself as "slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love." Over and over this love is proven as he come to the nation of Israel, forgives their sin, and lifts them out of an oppressive situation. That isn't a God who divides.

So which Jesus is the real Jesus? Did Jesus come to bring love and peace, or did Jesus come to bring division?

The answer is yes ... they are both the real Jesus. To add to it, it's the same event in Jesus' life that brings both peace and division. While Christians stand at the foot of the cross and empty tomb and find themselves at peace with one another and with God, they stand there and also find themselves divided with the rest of the world.

I saw a clear example of this a number of years back when I heard the story of an art professor at my undergrad school. She'd grown up in an Orthodox Jewish home. By the time she reached her college years she was ready to experience everything the world had to offer, including cheeseburgers. So she left her Jewish roots to explore the world, a move that, by and large, her family accepted.

However, after a number of years she took a position teaching art at the University of Nebraska. While here a student introduced her to the New Testament and, after reading it in its entirety, she called her parents to ask why they had never told her about the Jewish Messiah named Jesus. At the news of her conversion to Christianity many of her family members cut off contact with her and they even held a funeral for her. The same Jesus who had brought her peace had also brought division to her family.

I've seen other example of this in my life, be it husbands and wives who have different faiths, or parents fighting with children who want to play sports on Sunday morning. The very same Jesus who brings peace to so many, also brings division.

And yet, what is truly amazing, is the ability of Jesus to bring peace into places where he once brought division.

When I was working in California I knew a woman who'd been a Christian for years but, for one reason or another, had married a non-believer. Over time, these differing values put an incredible strain on their marriage but, rather than give up, she decided to persist and be the best wife she could possibly be. To use Paul's analogy from Ephesians 5, she wanted to live in relation to her husband as the church does to Christ ... even if he wasn't anything like Jesus to her.

Over time, the Spirit used her modeling the relationship between God and his people to soften his heart towards both the Church and Jesus until, finally, one day, he asked her if he could go to church with her. That morning, the very same Jesus who had divided them for so long, brought peace into their marriage.

Yes, Jesus came to bring peace. Yes, Jesus came to bring division. It all depends on how you view his cross.

A couple weeks ago I was listening to a class from Cal Berkeley on the Foundations of American Cyberculture (it's available through iTunes U). During one of the sessions the professors shared a few quotes from various individuals who were instrumental in the early development and mass expansion of the Internet.

The comments themselves spoke as if humanity had been a new world, a fresh space where we could create culture and community from scratch. They spoke with extreme idealism of a realm where the challenges of racism, classism, and sexism would become obsolete.

Here we are, just a few years later, and this perfect world is dominated by pornography and the need to eliminate virtual bestiality on Second Life.

This of course shouldn't really surprise us, after all, history is replete with examples of utopic dreams gone awry. With so many examples of our attempts to redeem our world coming up short, how should we respond? While some would suggest that we simply need to go back to the drawing board and try harder, maybe it's time we recognize our deficiencies and look to another source of redemption.

There are some passages in the Bible I really don't like and Luke 12:13-21 is one of them. In part I know it's because of some odd memories that are associates with it. The first time I preached on this text I was in Seminary and I remember getting up to preach and seeing two of my Greek professors in the congregation. To make it worse, they weren't seated next to each other so I was always looking at one of them which made the whole experience rather intimidating.

To add to it, the way I structure my sermon that day involved comparing the rich fool to my grandfather. I noted that externally, they looked rather similar and kept asking what prevented my grandfather from being a fool. Given that my grandpa has since died, this passage brings back memories and stirs up sadness at the thought of loss.

My Lutheran sensibilities are also attacked by this passage because there isn't any good news in it. I've been trained to think in terms of Law and Gospel so when I come across a passage like this one, where there is no Gospel, something deep within begins to uncomfortably twist and churn.

But my greatest opposition to these verses from God's Word is that the Law that's right there on the surface, a word of judgment against consumerism and materialism, speaks directly to me, after all, I love stuff and constantly find myself looking for more. Be it my love of the latest technology or the longing for a porch or balcony so I have a place to barbecue, I, like the rich fool in Jesus' parable, want stuff.

I'm sure I'm not alone in this, in fact, I'm guessing that these verses get right into the face of most Americans. After all, we, as a nation, make up just over 4% of the world's population but consume more resources than anybody else. We actually have so much stuff here that many of our poor are financially better off than billions of other people throughout the world.

So, given how direct this word of Law from Jesus speaks to you and I, I thought I'd go somewhat practical in my blog and offer three tips on how to heed Jesus' words and "be on your guard against all covetousness."

Two of these lessons come directly from the life of the rich fool, the first becoming clear when we look at who he spoke with while deciding what he was going to do. The first person singular pronoun 'I' appears six times in the six verse parable. To our American ears this might not seem unusual, but in the culture of the day, this would have been unheard of and considered shameful as decisions were to be made in community. This didn't happen in a cult sense where decisions were made for you, rather, others served as a sounding board and could offer a different perspective. It's the same concept that you find in our culture blog of the week, The Elemental Community.

With this in mind, how do you be on your guard and remain faithful over foolish? Ask yourself how you go about making your decisions ... is it an entirely individual endeavor or do you bounce your ideas off of others (of course, who those others are also makes a huge difference)?

The second lesson we learn from the fool's life comes in how he viewed the crops. Jesus opens the parable pointing out that it was the ground that produced the exceptional crop that added the already rich man's abundance and instantly he refers to the produce as his. In his mind, they are something that is earned and the one who provided the soil, the rain, the sun, and the seeds isn't part of the equation.

This is radically different from a Biblical perspective which declares that all things belong to God and we are the stewards or caretakers of them. This would mean the roof on over our head, the clothes on our backs, the food in our stomachs, and even the money in our bank accounts ultimately belong to God and he has given them to us to use for the common good.

Regular rituals, be it prayers before meals, writing out a check for a weekly offering, or thanking God for life itself as you wake up each morning can help keep this second point in mind, as can major event rituals such as the blessing of a new home.

Of course, when you're constantly trying to bounce ideas off of others and hoping you can discern what is right or continually reminding yourself that everything you have is from God and he's called you to use it properly, it becomes easy to find yourself bogged down in debates over what would be faithful and what would be foolish which of course, in and of itself, is also foolish. It's into this paralyzing dilemma where Martin Luther's words to Philipp Melanchthon come to the rescue ... "sin boldly".

Luther's point was that we can't avoid sin in this life so, rather than find ourselves disabled in our attempts to always do right, we should move forward in life as best as we can, doing what we believe to be the best thing, and trust that when we fail, Christ's grace is always sufficient and that we are forgiven.

So, how do you life a life that's faithful rather than foolish? Hear the voice of your Christian community, recognize where your blessings come from, and sin boldly but trust in Christ more boldly.